


Like a Lover

by Romansleftshoulderpad



Category: Cartoon Therapy (Web Series), Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Genderfluid Dr. Emile Picani, M/M, Mutual Pining, THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED, Trans!Remy, unsafe binding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:02:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22162243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romansleftshoulderpad/pseuds/Romansleftshoulderpad
Summary: Emile's uncle Roman is having a wedding cruise and he needs a date. (Fake dating comes later in fic)
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Dr. Emile Picani/Sleep | Remy Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders
Comments: 5
Kudos: 74





	Like a Lover

“Guess who’s back,” Remy said in a sing-song as he crawled from his balcony to Emile’s.

“You’re going to kill yourself one of these days,” Emile teased, stabilizing his arms.

“Oh, please, Babe, you’ll have to prove that I’m not immortal first.” Remy stood straight as he regained his balance. Emile’s hands were still touching his skin.

“I’m pretty sure your death is _exactly_ what it would take to prove that you aren’t immortal,” Emile said. The two locked eyes for a moment before bursting into laughter and pulling each other close. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Remy glanced down to Emile’s wrist, seeing the blue ribbon tied around it. “I’ve missed you, too,” he said softly, almost as if he weren’t sure if he wanted Emile to hear.

“C’ mon in,” Emile said, “my dads are gonna want to see you.”

Emile intertwined his fingers around Remy’s and lead them both through the foreign familiar bedroom. “You repainted,” Remy said. “Very, uh… it’s blue.”

“You’re not the only one growing up, College Boy,” Emile teased.

“So all the Funkos?”

Emile rolled his eyes, swinging open the bedroom door and leading Remy out of it. “All on shelves in my closet. I’m not a monster, Remus, of course, I still have them.”

They walked downstairs to where Logan and Patton were sitting at the kitchen table, reading the news and sipping on coffee over quiet conversation. Remy couldn’t help but notice how softly warm and domestic the whole moment was. He almost felt bad for intruding. Emile coughed quickly, drawing their attention towards them.

“Remy!” Logan greeted with a smile. “Welcome back. How’s college going for you?”

“Oh! I didn’t hear you come in last night!” Patton said with an innocent smile.

A blush ran through Emile’s cheeks and up to the top of his ears as he released his hold on Remy’s hand. “He just dropped in ten minutes ago.”

“Sure thing, Kiddo,” Patton laughed, hiding a smirk behind a sip of coffee.

Logan cleared his throat, embarrassed either on his son’s behalf or on his own accord. “So…College, Remy.”

“Oh, yeah, uh, college.”

“Yep,” Emile squeaked. “College. Let’s talk about college and _nothing else_.”

Remy and Emile took seats at the table and Remy began to give a practically day by day analysis of his past school year. Emile was totally enamored by his every word as he mockingly imitated his professors and talked about how he was shocked to actually enjoy a few of his classes.

“And how about summer plans?” Patton asked with a mischievous grin.

Remy shrugged. “Not sure I have any. I’ve been too busy with finals to make any.”

Emile forced out a cough under his dads’ stare. “Well, um, my uncle is getting married. And I, uh, he told me to bring a plus one.” Emile took a deep breath and only then did Remy notice the way that he was shaking his hands. “I thought it’d be a little less awkward with you there.”

“And, of course, we’ll pay all of your expenses,” Logan said.

“When is it?” Remy asked.

“We leave next weekend,” Emile said. “It’s a seven-day cruise.”

“A… a cruise wedding?” Remy asked. “I’m in.”

“I don’t know, Em, you might need to twist his arm a little more,” Patton teased.

The group continued to talk, eventually roping Remy into a family breakfast. They shared jokes and made plans and Remy couldn’t help but feel like he was home.

The time before the cruise came and went in practically the blink of an eye as Remy found himself boarding the large ship by Emile’s side. “Woah,” he muttered out, seeing the large chandelier that hung over the elegant lobby. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

Emile laughed. “Uncle Roman is pretty, uh, extravagant. I just wanna know how he got his fiancé to agree to this.”

“You say that like your uncle would marry anyone less than half as extra as himself,” Patton laughed.

“Why don’t you two check out the ship a bit while we take the bags up?” Logan suggested.

“Are you sure?” Remy asked hesitantly.

“Just don’t go overboard,” Patton teased. He took Remy’s bag and gave the other a pat on the back. “Have fun, Kiddos!”

“Alright! What first?” Emile said with a smile as their dads headed towards the elevators. The skirt of their dress fluttered back and forth as they swayed where they stood.

“Two words,” Remy said with a smirk. “Pool. Deck.”

“Follow me, my good sir!” Emile teased.

Remy tried not to think too hard about how Emile’s callused hands were bigger than his own as they maneuvered through the crowd. When they snuck into a crowded elevator, he tried not to focus on how their bodies pressed together (and how Emile was noticeably taller). When they reached the pool deck, Remy felt like he could breathe again, free from the crowds and embracing the fresh air. Speakers blared a mumbled version of some generic pop song he had never paid attention to and kids yelled as they splashed around in the pool.

“This is our lives for the next week,” Remy said with a smile. “Nice.”

“With a few wedding events sprinkled in, yes,” Emile laughed. “Dinner is semi-formal so if you see a man in a red sequin tux, it’s Uncle Roman.”

“A red sequin tux?” Remy asked with a laugh.

“Yep. His fiancé sent us pictures once.”

“No way.”

“Yes, way, I’ll show you them at dinner,” Emile said. The two continued to walk around the pool deck, arms brushing against each other, as they explored, making themselves acquainted with all of the elevators.

Emile and Remy had been childhood friends for as long as they could remember. They had been there for each other through each of their coming-outs, sleepless nights, and years of holidays and birthdays. If a couple… /feelings/ had developed, Remy didn’t consider that anyone’s business but his own. Of course he felt /close/ with Emile, but never in /that/ way. Right?

“Oh look! An arcade!” Emile said excitedly. “We should totally go sometime!”

“Oh, hell yeah. Let’s kick some greasy 12-year-old’s ass.”

Emile laughed, pulling Remy’s hand forward as they announced, “Adventure is out there!”

“Can you ever go five minutes without a Pixar reference?”

“Nope!” Emile replied, popping the ‘p’ and tapping Remy’s nose lightly.

“Bet you can’t get through ten during dinner,” Remy challenged.

“With _my_ uncle?!” Emile asked. “You’re on.”

**+++**

Despite Emile’s constant reminders that dress codes weren’t strict and that the first night everyone would be more focused on catching up than appearance, he still couldn’t help but feel anxious the entire way down. Logan had always been rather formal but seeing Patton in a pastel three-piece suit was certainly a surprise. Emile was wearing their usual go-to look for such events, though without the colorful tie. Their green ribbon had been discarded from their wrist.

“Are you okay?” Remy whispered. The four of them walked down the hall, seeming to be ridiculously ahead of schedule.

“Hmm?” Emile looked up, their fingers rubbing the hem of their cardigan. “Oh, yeah, it’s just… there’s a lot of people to explain it to. I’d really rather not.”

Remy brushed his arm along Emile’s as a small reminder and a silent question. Emile nodded scantily and Remy intertwined their fingers, squeezing with just enough pressure to let Emile know that he was there for them. He pressed the button to call an elevator and gave Emile a smile. “So what’s this Uncle Roman like?” What followed was a long conversation with more embarrassing stories than Remy imagined that Roman would want to have shared.

Inside the restaurant were about three tables filled with Emile’s family members and a man in a dark red suit happily waved them all over. “I’m noticing an obvious lack of sequins,” Remy teased.

“Oh please, this is only night one. He still has plenty more time to cover himself in fake jewels,” Emile assured.

“There’s my favorite non-binary pal,” Roman said, keeping his voice restrained to just the small group as he ruffled Emile’s hair. “And this must be your date.”

“My plus one,” Emile corrected. “This is Remy.”

“Nice to meet you, Remy, I’m-“

“The infamous Uncle Roman,” Remy said with a shit eating grin.

“Oh this one’s a keeper,” Roman said, nudging Emile’s arm. “Now, if you don’t mind me asking, what are your pronouns?”

“Oh, uh, he/him,” Remy said.

“Emile, you need to bring him around more,” Roman teased.

“You say that like anyone can separate these two,” Patton teased. They took their seats and Roman’s arm fell across the shoulders of a man dressed in black with faded violet hair.

“Oh! Remy, this is my fiancé, Virgil,” Roman introduced. “Virgil, this is Emile’s friend Remy.”

“Hey, kid,” Virgil greeted with finger guns.

“Uh, hey,” Remy replied, shooting back an awkward smile. As the rest of the group settled into casual conversation and catching up, Remy couldn’t help but feel like he was intruding. He began to debate whether or not coming had actually been a good idea when he was taken from his thought by an arm pressing against his. He found Emile’s hand and intertwined their fingers, smiling slightly as Emile squeezed his hand.

“It’s okay to be nervous,” Emile said. “But I’m glad that you’re here.” It didn’t take a genius to know what they meant. (Unfortunately, Remy had one brain cell.)

“Thanks, Em,” Remy said. They held hands all throughout dinner, and Remy was starting to realize that his crush might have been bigger than anticipated.

Of course, a tiny crush turned into a big, gay disaster when they got back to the cabin. “The couch is a pullout, right?” Remy asked nervously, chewing on his lip.

“I think so,” Emile said. “Remy, I’m not going to make you take the couch. It’s not like we haven’t slept together before.” Emile thought back to his father’s teasing, face blushing as he then realized what he had said. “I mean sleeping in the same bed. Separately. Asleep.”

“Gotcha.” He dug his hands in his pockets, staring at the ground.

“If it makes you uncomfortable,” Emile blurted out, “I can sleep on the couch.”

“Em, you don’t need to do that,” Remy said. He took Emile’s hands in his own and the two found themselves in a stalemate as they locked eyes.

“Well I’m not letting you sleep there either,” Emile said, their face crinkling as they tried to appear serious and threatening.

Remy couldn’t help but laugh, breaking his stare. “I nearly forgot how stubborn you are.”

“Ha! I win then!” Emile said. “My stubbornness is my best quality.”

“No way,” Remy said, breaking away from Emile to pull a pair of pajamas out of his suitcase.

“Oh yeah? Then what _is_ my best quality?” Emile asked, their breath hot against Remy’s neck as they leaned over his shoulder.

Remy thought for a moment, panicking on what to say. _Your compassion. Your thoughtfulness. Your sense of humor. The way you don’t care about what people think of you. Your smile. Your eyes. The way you’re making my heart beat so loudly I feel like it’s going to burst!_

“Your ass.”

Emile laughed and rolled their eyes. “Whatever, I’m gonna go get changed.” As they went off to the bathroom Remy groaned in his hands silently asking himself _whhyyy?_

Remy was used to friendly flirting. Hell, he was used to real flirting! He had dealt with crushes before and was certainly experienced when it came to relationships, but Emile was different. Remy has never considered Emile his type; he was into more edgy, dangerous people. Those who weren’t afraid to get a little messy or even get some blood on their hands.

But Emile? They were a mediator. Emile was the calm _during_ the storm and they had been a constant in Remy’s life for as long as he could remember. He couldn’t imagine living in a world without them. He was but a blade of grass and Emile was the entire universe.

Remy shook out his thoughts as he took his binder off and quickly threw on a baggy shirt with his school name on it in large print. He continued changing into his pajamas and put his clothes off to the side until Emile walked in.

“Since when do you sleep shirtless?” Remy asked, trying to hide a blush as Emile raked their hands through their wet hair. Truthfully, he wished he could stop his eyes from wandering across Emile’s soft stomach and toned arms. _Someone had clearly kept their New Year’s Resolution._

“I guess I just made a habit of it,” Emile said with a laugh. “I can put something on if you’re uncomfortab-”

“NO! I, uh, no, I’m not uncomfortable at all!” Remy said, blushing both in embarrassment and from his inability to peel his eyes from the sight in front of him. Suddenly he felt rather fortunate to be trans. “You can be as clothed as you want and I’m going to shut up now.”

Emile giggled as they climbed into bed and patted the space next to themselves. Remy tried to contain his heart rate as he slowly climbed into bed, busying himself with the way he adjusted the pillows. _It’s just Emile. It’s just sleeping. Calm down._

Of course, it wasn’t long before Emile was half asleep with their head against Remy’s neck and their shoulders overlapping. “Em,” Remy whispered, just to make sure that they weren’t listening. He pushed their hair away from their face and fought back thoughts about how wonderful it must feel to kiss those lips. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

**+++**

The next morning proved that Emile, dawned with a blue ribbon, only had one thing on his mind: _The arcade_. He had quickly gotten dressed- and urging Remy to do the same- excited as they headed to meet his dads for breakfast. Remy soon realized that Emile was very much a case of like-father-like-son as he saw an exuberant Patton dragging along a very tired Logan.

“Coffee?” Logan asked quietly as Emile and Patton talked loudly and excitedly about their plans for the rest of the cruise.

“Definitely,” Remy agreed.

Logan patted his back with a small laugh. “Welcome to the family. You’re either a morning person or addicted to caffeine.”

“Let me guess which Roman is.”

Logan groaned, pushing up his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Excruciatingly loud in the mornings. We can only pray that there’s enough coffee in the world to allow Virgil to keep his sanity.”

“So,” Emile said, excitedly drumming his fingers on the table, “Remy and I were planning on going to the arcade later!”

“Kids,” Patton said fondly, exchanging a glance with Logan. “Just be ready for tonight. Roman invited us all to join him and Virgil later for swing dancing.”

Emile let out an excited squeal, smiling and shaking his hands slightly. “I love swing dancing!”

“Since when?” Logan teased, his eyes darting to Remy for a quick moment before landing back on his son.

“There are some things you don’t know about me, Dad,” Emile teased.

Patton was considerably less subtle than his husband had previously been as his eyes darted between the younger boys. “Care to elaborate on that, Em?”

“Nope!” Emile squeaked, hiding behind his hands.

Remy couldn’t help but laugh at Emile’s blush. He was bright red and possibly the cutest thing that Remy had ever seen. “How do we need to dress?”

“Just a bit fancier than jeans and leather,” Logan teased.

“I think I can work with that.”

“Now eat fast,” Emile said, “I wanna get in as _much_ arcade time as possible.”

It was no secret that Remy had a competitive streak. He certainly let it show as soon as they had hit the arcade. After rage quitting at Pac-Man, he bought a few more tokens and had his eyes set on Skeeball.

“You ready to lose, Picani?” Remy teased, nudging his friend’s arm.

“Oh, you’re on,” Emile bit back, just as fiery but with a wide smile.

Unfortunately, Remy has a terrible aim and quickly had his ass handed to him. “How are you so good at this?!”

Emile chuckled, teasingly messing up Remy’s hair. “It’s called ‘patience’, Remus, you should try it sometime.”

“Patience can eat my ass.”

Emile rolled his eyes but Remy couldn’t miss the fond smile that graced him. “I have enough left for one more game,” Emile said, digging through his pocket. “Let me help you.”

Remy was quick to arm himself, just about the toss when Emile stopped him. “Patience, Remy,” he teased. “Just follow my lead.” Emile grabbed onto Remy’s hip causing Remy to blush as he took in a sharp inhale. Emile’s freehand traveled down Remy’s arm, just barely intertwining their fingers together at the end. Emile slid his foot between Remy’s and opened up his stance, widening his legs slightly.

Emile was his best friend, and Remy did /not/ like where his mind was going. Emile drew back Remy’s arm, each of their bodies twisting together in sync. Remy’s mind flooded with a thousand poisonous thoughts and he began to wonder how he would ever survive the trip.

 _Skeeball_ , he reminded himself, _we’re playing Skeeball. Nothing… else._

They made the first shot and scored 40 points. “See what patience can getcha?” Emile teased. “C’ mon, let’s shoot for 50 this time.”

Remy forced out a small laugh ignoring the way his body wanted to melt into Emile’s. He focused on the game. “Yeah. Patience.”

Unfortunately, that night’s events weren’t much easier. The club was dimly lit save for the spotlight on a loud, brassy band. In the corner of the room was a bar where Roman and Virgil had been waiting, sipping on margaritas. The rest of them took seats at the bar and ordered drinks- specifically only getting water for Remy. (Which didn’t matter as he took sips of Emile’s drink when no one was looking.)

By the time they got to the dance floor, Emile was already tipsy off of his second daiquiri. “C’ mon, Remy, dance with me!” Emile laughed, pulling Remy by the arms. Even if Remy wasn’t saying ‘no’, Emile still brought out his signature charming smile and puppy dog eyes. Remy wondered if Emile knew that he was his only weakness.

Emile brought Remy’s hands to his own hips as he wrapped his arms around Remy’s neck. _He wants me to lead._ Sure, Emile might not have been entirely sure what kind of dance they were doing, but he wanted Remy to lead. That seemed to be all that mattered.

Remy wasn’t blind. He had noticed the ways that Patton enjoyed using him to embarrass Emile; he saw Logan ever so slightly testing him when he and Emile were being particularly affectionate. It was the same way his own parents teased him about Emile long before he had a crush on his neighbor.

Only, that’s where the line was drawn. Emile didn’t have a crush. Parents just like being assholes sometimes. They like teasing. So Remy just had to ignore it. He couldn’t get his hopes up. And as he felt his hands against Emile’s soft fingers as they danced, faces not even an inch apart as Emile came back from the twirl, Remy pushed his hopes down deep into the darkest part of his mind.

“Remy! Dip me!” Emile yelled.

“WHAT?” Before Remy could stop him, Emile was already leaning back too fast for Remy’s noodle arms to catch. They both fell to the ground with Emile laughing the whole way down. Remy’s face was just above Emile’s, their lips practically touching, prompting Remy to sit up quickly in a panic as Emile kept laughing.

“Oh get a room,” Virgil teased as he swung by. Remy noticed that he was straddling Emile and quickly scrambled off of him.

“We, uh, we fell,” Remy said. “That’s it, I swear.”

“Relax,” Virgil laughed. “I saw you fail at dipping him. Patton said he’d give me a dollar if I could embarrass Emile.” Virgil looked the giggling man up and down before helping him up. “I don’t think I’m getting that dollar.”

“I don’t think anything can embarrass him at this point,” Remy said. “He doesn’t drink, well, ever.” The realization felt like a rock hitting Remy’s chest. “Guess we’ve both changed a bit.”

“Young love is adorable,” Virgil teased. “Just because he’s 21 now doesn’t mean he won’t stop acting like he’s 12.”

Remy let out a fond sigh. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Now,” Virgil said, jokingly pushing the two back into the crowd. “Go have fun.”

They spent about another hour dancing and giggling before Emile had sobered up and Remy had begun to push past his limit. “Rem? Are you okay?” Emile asked, stopping their dance and bringing Remy to the edge of the crowd.

“Yeah, yeah,” Remy said. “Just- my binder-“

“Nope, say no more, I’m taking you back to the room so you can take it off,” Emile said stubbornly. A few passing patrons glanced suspiciously at them.

“Em, it’s fine,” Remy said.

“Nope!” Emile swept him off of his feet (literally) and carried him out of the room. Remy hid his blush as he saw Roman and Logan’s glances before the door closed behind them.

“Emile, I’m perfectly capable of walking to the room myself.”

“I’m aware, I just don’t give a shit.”

“Em!” Remy yelled in surprise.

“Like you haven’t sworn before.”

“Oh I’ve said some shit, but this isn’t about me,” Remy said. Emile gave him a stern glance before the two began to laugh. When they got to the hall, Emile used his knee to call up an elevator. “You literally could have put me down.”

“Could have,” Emile repeated. “But I won’t.” As a man of his word, Emile continued to carry Remy all the way up to their room. “How long have you been wearing that thing?”

Remy mumbled something from inside the bathroom that Emile couldn’t hear.

“C’ mon, Rem, tell me.”

Emile’s voice was cold and commanding and it sent a chill down Remy’s spine as he inspected the red lines on his torso from the mesh of his binder. “Twelve hours,” he mumbled, a bit louder. Despite the door between them, he could already _feel_ Emile’s disapproving glare. He was so much like his dads at times. “But it’s fine!” he yelled before Emile could get a word in. “I’m fine, just a bit sore.”

“Which is _exactly_ why you aren’t wearing that thing tomorrow,” Emile argued. Remy groaned, trying to avoid looking at his reflection as he pulled on a baggy shirt.

“You, Sir,” he said, swinging open the bathroom door, “are an asshole.”

“Yeah, but I’m an asshole who cares about you,” Emile said. He gently pressed his hands against Remy’s ribs, just below his arms. The moment was quiet and intimate in a way neither knew how to describe.

“Does it hurt?” Emile asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“No.”

“Good. Lay down, I want to help you relax.”

“What?” Remy asked as a soft blush rose to his face.

“I just wanna work out the kinks-“

“This, Emile, is why your dad keeps asking you about condoms.”

“The kinks in your _back_ , pervert.”

Remy opened his mouth the argue but found himself speechless as Emile pressed his gentle fingers into the curve of his neck. He let Emile lay him down and began to relax as warm hands unwound the knots in his neck and shoulders.

“Do you mind if I go under your shirt or would you prefer for me to stay over?”

“Over,” Remy said almost instinctively. With the way his crush was getting worse by the minute, he could only imagine what the touch would do to him. “Please.”

“Of course,” Emile said, his voice soft and light. Loving, almost. _Almost._

Remy let his face sink into the pillow. As Emile’s hands traveled down his back (with just the right amount of pressure) Remy wished that he could focus on anything. Fortunately, it didn’t take long before he was fast asleep.

For the first time in years, Remy had been disappointed to wake up from a dream. It hadn’t been sexual, but it had certainly involved the man beside him. They had been dancing, only more coordinated and less tipsy. They each moved effortlessly and the feeling of Emile pressed up against him was now permanently seared into Remy’s brain. In a good way at least. The dream was hauntingly vivid and Remy could still feel the phantom Emile’s hand on his cheek and his soft lips pressed to Remy’s.

Remy slid out of bed, immediately going to search for his binder. “No binding,” Emile said groggily from under the covers. “C’ mon, you promised.”

“I didn’t promise shit.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing that _I_ know where your binder is and _you_ don’t.” Emile sat up from bed, his hair in a million different directions as the fabric fell into his lap.

“Emile Picani, you’re going to hell even if I have to put you there myself.”

“Oh no,” Emile sarcastically whined. “I’m being a good friend.” He crawled out of bed and rested his chin on Remy’s shoulder. “I have an idea I think you’ll like though.”

Remy rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah?”

“Well, you _did_ seem pretty excited to go to the pool deck.”

Remy’s eyes widened and he dashed to his suitcase. “GIVE ME FIVE MINUTES AND WE’LL GO!”

Remy was like an excited child the whole way up and Emile couldn’t hide the fact that it made his heart flutter. He let Remy lead them to the seats with “Optimal Hoe Lighting” presumably to tan.

Now, it would be a lie to say that Emile had never seen Remy partially undressed. As children, they often took family trips to beaches where the two would run around in bathing suits and build sandcastles. As they grew up, however, Remy drew back slightly. It was understandable, of course, no teenager is perfectly content in their own skin and adding his dysphoria made his desire to be so public with his body even lesser.

But Emile shouldn’t have been so surprised when Remy took off his coverup. He couldn’t stop his eyes from raking over Remy’s body. His muscles had become more defined and his hips bones stuck out just over the top of his board shorts. His tongue stuck out from between his lips as he adjusted the straps of his bikini top. His were hidden behind his sunglasses and Emile silently wished that he hadn’t noticed his staring.

Remy smiled at Emile with a small giggle. “You did not blend that sunscreen in at _all_.” He stuck his tongue out in that same concentration and cupped Emile’s face in his hands. Despite being nearly a foot taller than him, Emile thought he just might melt into Remy’s touch. “Let me help you.”

His hands were warm against Emile’s skin and the taller of the two couldn’t help but smile. His face was twisted in concentration but he worked with the utmost care. He took the excess sunscreen and worked it into the skin on his ears and neck. Emile couldn’t help but smile at him adoringly.

“What?” Remy asked with a laugh.

“You’re adorable,” Emile blurted out and failed to hold back his giggles when Remy began to blush. “Aww, are you getting flustered?”

“Yes! Now shush!”

Emile laughed, tapping Remy’s noise with a sound effect. “Well, I just can’t help it if the most handsome man in the world is easily flustered! D’awwh and look how cute he is with his face bright and red.”

“Emile Picani, I swear to all things good and holy I will absolutely push you in that pool,” Remy said, trying to look angry but ultimately failing.

“Why? I’m only stating the tru- OOF!” Emile grabbed onto Remy’s wrists as he fell back into the pool. He came up, coughing up a bit of water but laughing the whole time. Remy splashed him across the face.

“You’re the worst.”

Emile playfully splashed him back. “But you _loooooovvveee meeeee_.”

“That’s gay,” Remy countered splashing back as the two engaged in a full out battle of splashing only to stop when the lifeguard yelled at them. They had made their way out of the pool to tan (Remy tanned; Emile panicked about burning) as he lay there with earbuds drowning out the world around him, Emile attempted to recall the last time he had seen his friend so at peace.

He was happy for him. After all that Remy had been through, he deserved a break. Emile selfishly hoped that he was partially to credit for such a state.

“Like what you see?” Remy teased.

Emile muttered gibberish under his breath as he hid his blushing face from his laughing friend. If he heard that gorgeous laughter until the end of time, it still wouldn’t be enough.

**+++**

When they were getting ready for dinner, Emile still refused to give back the binder. He really missed the relaxing laughter then, it would have been a much better substitute for the yelling. “Your body needs time to rest!”

“My _body_ can survive another hour or two without your advice!” Remy shot back, his voice seething with venom. The venom began to pool in Remy’s eyes, though he would never admit it, and Emile’s heart shattered. “I- I can’t- Em, I can’t go out in front of everyone without it.”

“But, earlie-”

“Your family, Emile. I can’t go out there without it in front of them.”

“Remy,” Emile whispered softly. “I… if you’re worried about passing, you can borrow some of my clothes. I’ll make sure you’re the most handsome _man_ in the room with it without a binder.”

Remy opened his mouth to speak but just as quickly closed his lips and hesitantly looked to the floor. Emile smoothed out Remy’s hair and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “We don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I can call my dads and explain to them.” He could see the gears turning in Remy’s mind. “Just be prepared for the inevitable jokes from my dad.”

“I’m more surprised he hasn’t given you a box of condoms already,” Remy teased.

“Worse,” Emile groaned. “He gave me two.” Remy exploded into laughter with a smile bright enough to make the sun seem like a lightbulb; Emile was absolutely smitten.

“I’m fine with going to dinner,” Remy said. “Dress me up as your own living doll.”

Emile dug through both suitcases and gave Remy a pair of his own black slacks while frantically digging through his own clothes. While Remy would never have considered wearing a white button-down under a sky blue sweater, he loved the look more than he’d admit. The soft fabric was a comforting weight on his shoulders and it smelt like Emile. It was perfect.

At dinner, he sat between Emile and Virgil and he let his mind wind down and relax. His fingers ran up and down the sleeves of the sweater as he watched Emile talk.

“So,” an old woman, presumably Emile’s grandmother, asked suddenly, “how long have you two been dating?” Her voice was sweet and full of adoration. Emile and Remy glanced to each other quickly.

“Oh, we aren’t-“

“Two years.”

Emile looked like an owl with his wife eyes being magnified by his lenses. “ _What are you doing?_ ” he mouthed quietly.

“I’m so glad Emi is doing more than just watching those silly shows,” the old woman teased.

“Remy, I think we should talk,” Emile said sternly. “Alone.”

Logan and Patton exchanged glances between themselves and the two as they walked out of the restaurant. “Okay! Okay! Before you say anything, I panicked!” Remy justified.

“What? HOW IS THAT YOUR SOLUTION TO PANICKING?!” Emile yelled. “NOW I’M PANICKING!”

“I’m sorry! She just seemed excited and I didn’t want to-“

“It’s fine,” Emile said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m not upset just… confused.”

“Do you want to stage a dramatic breakup?” Remy offered.

“No, no, I don’t want to make a scene the week of the wedding. Uncle Roman would have my head on a spike,” Emile said.

“Hey,” Virgil said from the doorway behind them. “Patton asked me to check on you too. And, uh, make sure that you’re using condoms. I’m not gonna make you answer that.”

Emile winced with a groan. “He really needs to stop worrying about that.”

“STDs aren’t a joke,” Virgil said, falling to hold back a teasing laugh. “Let me guess: This dumbass lied and now you’re figuring out how far to take this bullshit?”

Emile stared at him in horror; Remy was trying to telepathically communicate with Virgil. “How did you figure that out?” Emile asked.

“Magic,” Virgil deadpanned. “Also I’ve been eavesdropping behind that wall for the last minute.”

“I’m sorry,” Remy said. “I didn’t mean to lie, I just-“

“Kid, it happens,” Virgil said with a genuine smile. “Now, c’ mon, they’re bringing dessert out and I’m sure you two ‘love birds’ don’t want to miss.” Remy blushed, intertwining his hand with Emile’s as they walked inside.

The next day had Emile whisked away with his Uncle for last-minute wedding preparations leaving Remy entirely alone for the day. Somehow, on a ship full of thousands of people, Remy was alone.

An hour before the wedding his phone began to ring. “Em?” he asked, not even having bothered to check the caller I.D.

“Go, uh, go ahead and get ready,” Emile said. “There’s still a bit more I need to do and, uh, just meet me here, okay? My dad, Patton, will help lead you here.”

“Lead me there?” Remy asked. “Em, I’m a grown man.”

“A grown man who gets lost a lot,” Emile clarified. “Now hurry up.”

**+++**

“Care for a dance?” Remy jokingly flirted, holding out a hand to Emile. The pink tie she wore in place of a ribbon was subtle enough to go unnoticed to everyone else; but not Remy. He knew her too well.

“My prince,” she laughed, taking his hand as the opening notes to a song from Cinderella began to play. Neither could remember the words, but the melody was all they needed.

Remy intertwined his fingers with Emile’s and let his other hand gently curve against her side. She smiled shyly as she laid her free hand on his shoulder. “I haven’t danced in forever.”

“That’s what I’m here for, my dear,” Remy said with a laugh, pulling her onto the dance floor. He led her into a simple rhythm and smiled softly when she relaxed into it. “You look… beautiful, by the way.”

“So do you,” Emile said. “H- Handsome, I mean.”

“So this is love,” the speakers sang. “So this is what makes life divine.”

Their foreheads pressed together as the world melted around them. All that mattered was each other and keeping their feet in time. Remy pulled Emile closer, snaking the arm that had been on her side to the curve of her back as his other hand cupped her cheek. Emile’s hand stayed against Remy’s, rubbing circles onto the skin and beckoning him ever closer.

For a brief moment, more than ever, Remy wished that he hadn’t been lying. No, he didn’t wish he could take back the falsehood, he simply wanted to make it true. For a brief moment, he forgot that it wasn’t.

Their lips connected softly and moved in sync, each slowly pulling the other closer. Emile’s hands were on Remy’s neck, holding him until neither had air to breathe. Emile’s tongue traced against Remy’s bottom lip and that’s when the panic set in. He pulled away quickly, staring at Emile with wide eyes and a gaping jaw.

Emile was blushing with a natural smile on her face. “That was…”

“I gotta go,” Remy blurted out, quickly taking Emile’s hands off of him and dashing out of the room.

“REMY! Wait!” Emile called out, starting to run after him when she got caught by the arm.

“Sweetie, just let him go,” Logan said softly.

“He needs some time to himself right now,” Patton agreed.

“But- But he’s my best friend! A- And he needs me!”

“Is this about him needing you or you needing him?”

Emile was breathing frantically, tears welling in her eyes. “I don’t know, but- He-” Her hands were shaking and tears began to fall down her cheeks. “He actually likes me back,” she whispered. “I’ve been in love with him for three years and the minute we finally- something finally _happens_ he just runs off.” She glanced behind her at the couples dancing and laughing gracefully.

“Give him ten more minutes. Then go find your Prince Charming.”

**+++**

It had been forty minutes since Remy had left the wedding. “Go away,” he said weakly to the pair of shoes in front of him.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Emile said. “I just want you to listen to me. Please?”

Remy silently moved to his left, leaving just enough room for Emile to sit down. He kept his face mostly covered, but Emile could still see his red eyes and stray tears.

Emile took a breath, fiddling with something in her lap. “Remy, I- I think you’re incredible. You’re smart and kind-“

“Are you really reading this off of your phone?” Remy asked.

Emile quickly put her phone behind her back as a red blush grew on her face. “N- No! I just-“ She sighed defeatedly. “My dads helped me edit and revise.”

Remy laughed, snatching Emile’s phone and holding it above his head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And in love with you,” Emile blurted out. Remy almost dropped the phone. “I’ve… I’ve been in love with you for the past three years. You’re my best friend, Remy, and I… I thought if I told you then I’d… lose you.”

“Em,” Remy said softly. “You’re not going to lose me.” He pressed a small kiss to her knuckles. “I love you, Emile. Sure that love has changed and evolved over the years, but it’s always been there. It always will be.”

“How do you love me now?” Emile asked.

“I love you like a best friend,” Remy said.

“Oh.”

“I love you like a lover.”

“O-Oh!”

Remy’s heart was pounding in his chest and he wondered if his face was any redder than Emile’s strawberry skin. “Emile,” he asked softly, “can I kiss you?”

Emile laughed, leaning up and brushing her lips against Remy’s. “I thought you’d never ask.”

**+++**

It was nearly the end of summer. Another sleepless night, but Remy took the time to start packing. His eyes were strained and he knew he’d be exhausted by sunrise, but for now, he chose to embrace the tranquility of midnight.

That’s when something hit his window.

He pulled back the curtain and saw Emile, clad with a blue ribbon, standing on the balcony and waving. He climbed out of his own window and let the summer air hit his face. “Hello, my love.”

“Hey, Rem,” Emile smiled and held his arms out towards Remy. “Mind helping me over?”

“You’re coming in through the window?” Remy asked, holding onto Emile.s sides and helping lift him into the balcony. “Well, this is a surprise.”

“I didn’t want to risk my dads being awake tonight,” Emile whispered softly. Remy’s face flooded with color and Emile pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Emile Picani, are you being a bad boy?”

“Mmm, I’m your bad boy,” Emile said, pressing a kiss to and nipping at Remy’s bottom lip.

The two slipped inside, fingers tightly interlocked. “I love you so much,” Remy whispered. “And I’m going to miss you so much.”

“I’ll be waiting for you here when you get back,” Emile said. He pressed a soft kiss to Remy’s lips, following it with a trail of kisses down his neck. “Now, why don’t we make up for that lost time in advance.”

“O-Okay.”


End file.
